


Moon Tea

by andallismended



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, JB Week 2018, Jaime/Brienne Appreciation Week 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 14:44:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16161005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andallismended/pseuds/andallismended
Summary: Jaime snoops where he shouldn't and has questions.For JB Week 2018 Day One: The Maiden.





	Moon Tea

It is a warm day and Brienne is standing on the balcony over looking the training yard, watching as the master of arms puts today’s pupils through their paces. After a rousing fight, one pupil manages to drop the master of arms into the dirt with a well timed shove. Laughing, the pupil reaches down and helps the master of arms back to his feet. 

It is then that Brienne hears a loud cough behind her. She turns to see her husband standing behind her, arms crossed, with a dark look on his face.

Brienne raises her eyebrows. “Yes?”

“Come with me,” Jaime says. “There’s something you need to see.” And with that, he turns abruptly and stomps off in a huff. 

Brienne rolls her eyes and follows her husband. He leads her into the castle and down a hallway, then turns and flings open a chamber door. He gestures for her to enter, and she does. 

The bedchamber before her is neat and sparse, but has the feel of being lived in. On the bed, there is a partly packed leather bag. Hose and tunics are strewn messily atop the bed, as if someone was called away in the midst of packing for a trip. Jaime stalks over to the bed, picks up a small leather pouch, and stalks back to hold it in front of Brienne.

“Do you know what this is, wife? Do you?” He shakes the bag in her face.

Brienne sighs and crosses her arms. “Jaime - “ 

He opens the bag and takes a pinch of its contents out. “Moon tea, Brienne! Moon tea! In our daughter’s traveling bag! Do you know what this means?”

“Jaime - “ Brienne starts again, in what she hopes is a calming tone. She hears an edge of panic in her husband's voice. 

“Moon tea!” he hisses, gripping the satchel tightly. “It means that our daughter - our daughter - that she - that -" he sputters.

“That she may be preparing for a trip across Essos?” Brienne says. 

The look that Jaime gives her is one of sheer and utter confusion, laced with just a hint of panic. “What - I - how are you not appalled by this, wife?”

Brienne shrugs. “Where do you think she got it, husband?”

It takes a moment for Jaime to catch her meaning. He stares at her, then blinks. “You - you gave our daughter moon tea? Why in seven hells would you give our daughter moon tea?”

“Because,” Brienne says, gently taking the satchel from Jaime, “she is about to embark on a great adventure. And I want her to be prepared.”

“Prepared?” Jaime says, running his hand shakily through his graying hair. “For what?”

Brienne raises her eyebrows and looks at him. “I believe you know what moon tea is for.”

“What - no - our daughter - our daughter is a maiden, Brienne. An honorable maiden. And if I have anything to say about it, she will stay that way. Forever.”

Brienne puts the satchel of moon tea down on the dressing table, takes her husband’s hand, and leads him over to the bed. She sits him down. “Jaime,” she says, “our daughter is about to start her life, a life that will take her far away from us. It is our duty to ensure that we have prepared her for whatever comes.”

Jaime looks down at their hands. “She is a maid of nine and ten, Brienne. She is too young for - for - for things that require moon tea!”

Brienne laughs softly. “Things that require moon tea?”

“You know what I mean! She is too young!”

“Too young for what, Jaime? I was but eight and ten when I left home. You were ten and five when you became kingsguard.”

“Times were different then!”

“Were they? How?”

Jaime groans and flops backwards on the bed. “I don’t know. But they were.”

Brienne lays down on the bed and turns on her side. She props her head up on her arm and watches her husband. “The difference was that then, we were the children. And now we are the adults.”

Jaime turns his head and looks at her. “How did your father do it, Brienne? How did he let you go?”

“I didn’t give him much choice, really. I insisted on fighting for Renly. And he knew better than to stop me.”

“He could have forced you to stay!”

“Oh? And how would that have worked? If you force our daughter to stay, do you think she will thank you for it?”

Jaime turns and examines the ceiling. He sighs. “Does she really need moon tea, Brienne? Is it too much to ask her to keep her honor until she is wed?”

“Oh for the love of the seven, Jaime. Her honor has nothing to do with her maidenhead!”

Jaime cringes. “Must you speak of it in such terms, wife?”

“Oh? Am I embarrassing you? In what other terms should I refer to our daughter’s virginity?”

Jaime groans and rubs his eyes. “Must you refer to it at all? Gods.”

“If I recall correctly, you were not a virgin when we wed. Nor was I. Which you well know.”

“Brienne -"

Brienne sits up and looks down at her husband. “Was I any less honorable, after, than I was before?”

Jaime sits up as well. “Brienne,” he says, cupping her cheek, “you are and always will be the most honorable person I have ever known.”

Brienne smiles and kisses him. “You put me on a pedestal, Jaime. And you put our daughter on that pedestal as well. We are both women with a taste for adventure. It’s time you let her have hers.”

Jaime groans and leans his forehead against hers. “I know, Brienne. But moon tea. Really?”

Brienne stands and pulls him up. She frowns. “What were you doing in her chambers, anyway? Why were you going through her things?”

Jaime looks down at the bed. Brienne follows his gaze to a small, hand sewn doll sitting on the coverlet. She reaches down and picks it up. “Oh,” she breathes. “Ser Bearheart.”

Jaime shrugs. “I wanted her to have him.”

The rough hewn figure was one of their daughter’s first sewing projects. Whenever a journey had taken Jaime or Brienne away from home for any length of time, their daughter had insisted that Ser Bearheart accompany them, to keep them safe from harm.

“Oh, Jaime,” Brienne says. She smiles at him and blinks back the tears pricking at her eyes. Then she pulls him into her arms and hugs him tightly. “I love you.” She draws back and frowns. “But you can be quite daft. Here,” she shoves Ser Bearheart at him. “Training for today is almost over, and she leaves on the morrow. You must clean all this up.” She gestures to the clothes on the bed. “Repack her bag - including the moon tea! And Ser Bearheart. And do it quickly. I’ll go stall her, I’m sure she’ll be up for a fight with her old mother one last time before she leaves.”

“What!” Jaime says, almost pouting. “I want to see that!”

But Brienne is on her way out the door. “Pack!” she says in a scolding tone, turning back and wagging her finger at him. “And don’t forget the moon tea!” 

Brienne closes the door behind her and grins, wiping roughly at her wet eyes, as she hurries down the hallway for one last fight.


End file.
